


Zombie Madness

by Azeran



Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: M/M, Mad!Cry, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:43:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azeran/pseuds/Azeran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Fan…they keep coming!" Holding his weapon tight, Pewds took aim at a group stumbling towards him from the right, frowning in concentration. Perfect shot. His bullets cut through the bodies like a hot knife through butter, the stench of carnage perfuming the air. "Cry!" The gunfire roared, loud as drums on the deserted street. "You alive back there bro?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zombie Madness

**Author's Note:**

> I've gotta say that this fanfic was inspired by an idea that's rather overused, in terms of Pewdiecry plots. The zombie apocalypse. Them fighting off a zambie horde, being bosses and totally cool. Yeah. But I decided to go about it a bit...differently. No Cry and/or Pewds dying, no infected bites. Just…..crowbars and guns. And some madness ;) Listen to this if you want the full effect. watch?v=8ZeuTC7URq4 It was the song I was jamming to when this idea came to mind.
> 
> Disclaimer: Pewds and Cry own themselves. Not me. Duh.

"Fan…they keep coming!" Holding his weapon tight, Pewds took aim at a group stumbling towards him from the right, frowning in concentration. Perfect shot. His bullets cut through the bodies like a hot knife through butter, the stench of carnage perfuming the air. But more replaced them, their hands grasping, yearning. He fired again, and again, pressing back against the brunette who fought behind him. "Cry!" The gunfire roared, loud as drums on the deserted street. "You alive back there bro?"

A rough thud was his answer. Axe in hand, his partner smashed through skull after skull, his face masked with porcelain and splattered all over in drops of crimson. More of the grisly spots stained his neck and the front of his hoodie, which was tattered, hanging almost completely off his shoulder and baring a few angry looking scrapes and burns. He didn't seem to feel them though. In fact, he was laughing it up as the axe practically decapitated an approaching zombie, its blank face rotten, all putrid flesh and puss filled wounds. "Fucking monsters." Cry yanked the blade free and smirked when the corpse fell motionless at his feet. Another came forward to replace it, a woman with her intestines half hanging out. She met the same fate. The axe cleaved through her chest and sent her tumbling to the street, a garbled groan wetting her mouth.

"Uhnnghh…."

Lifting with blood slick hands, he smashed it right through her face. "Die! You fucking bitch!" Over and over the gamer swung, until his fingers were wet with a mess of pulped brains and broken teeth. Giggling, Cry admired them, crackling his knuckles. "Woops. I made a mess." He wiped it on his hoodie with a casual grin, marring the embroidered sup. "Guess I should be more careful!"

Maybe it was the insane laughter, or the wavering tone in his friend's voice, but Felix felt an uncomfortable wave of goose bumps rush down his spine. "…bro?" The last zombie on his end fell dead with a jerk of the trigger, and he glanced over his shoulder. "…you ok?"

Cry didn't see him. Didn't even seem to HEAR him. He was laughing too hard, stroking a smear of gore on the axe's handle and swaying from side to side. "Heheheh…look at them all…they're like fucking sheep to the slaughter!" Hoisting the weapon up over his shoulder, he grinned behind his mask. "Ready to kick some ass Pewds?"

Oh-javla fan. There was a whole mass of undead filth coming towards him, their rotten feet thumping on the asphalt, some barefoot and leaving scratch marks as overgrown nails were scraped loose and left scattered like a disgusting crumb trail in their wake. "That's fucking gross man." Pewds shuddered and aimed at them, ready to have Cry's back….though it didn't seem like he needed it. The swarm barely had time to break their makeshift defense of sandbags and, fahking unbelievably, barrels, before the brunette was scrambling over the barricade and hacking them to pieces. Literally. Watching in horror, Felix stared as Cry tore through them like wet paper, giggles and squeals frothing on his mouth and dripping from beneath the porcelain shroud. "What the hell? Cry!" He reloaded his gun and fired, taking out a zombie that had been looming over the gamer's shoulder. "What're you DOING?!"

"Haha! What's it look like?" Bone shattered, pieces chinking gently off his mask. The brunette picked one of them up, completely ignoring a dead guy coming towards him and admiring the bone as if it were a priceless jewel. "I'm having fun! You should try it sometimes friend. It's good for you!"

Felix gaped, scrambling to reload his gun. "FAHK! Cry! There's a-!"

The zombie groaned, hands ready to wrap around his neck, and Cry hurled the axe back into its chest. "Tch! You think I didn't see you coming, you piece of shit?" Cackling, he whirled around and smashed his heel against the handle, driving the blade so far into the zombified flesh that the sternum and ribs cracked, black blood oozing onto his jeans. "Ha! You think you're getting off that easy? Die, you motherfucker!" Even after his prey had collapsed, he kept stomping the axe deeper and deeper, laughing deliriously in broken, husky breaths. "Die, die, DIE!"

He kept attacking the corpse, pounding ribs to dust and kneeling in the gore to bury his fingers in the cracked ribcage, digging out the organs within as if they were prizes at a kiddy carnival and tossing them around gleefully. "You want something to eat? Huh? Well there you go! Eat up!" Cry threw a handful of mashed lung at an approaching child, snickering when it hit her dead in the mouth and made her tumble into a bunch of other moaning freaks. "Gotta have your daily dose of vitamin Z!" More and more organs were thrown, the air an infestation of bloody projectiles, and all the while Pewds watched, stunned shitless. The-the hell? CRY? What the fuck was wrong with him?! He was acting so-!

A splash of what might've been shredded intestines came within an inch of his face. Jerking away, his stormy eyes went wide in horror, and Pewds made a grab for the brunette, shooting desperately at another zombie coming to make an attempted meal of their flesh. "Cry! Pay attention bro! They're still coming!" Cry ignored him, kaleidoscopes of red and blue swirling behind the eyeholes of his mask. Frantic, the Swede tugged at him. There were several zombies moving their way, and he looked ready to throw himself into the fray. "Fahk! We've gotta get out of here!"

"Why," Cry purred, and Felix saw a sliver of a disturbing smile creeping up from behind the stoic faced porcelain covering his face. "Aren't you having fun Pewds?" Flipping his axe over and pointing at the handle at the crowd of undead, he let it drop. It clattered to the ground, bloodstained and filthy, and the American casually brushed it aside with a Converse clad foot. "I am…..I'm having a LOT of fun! Heheh!" He seemed completely ignorant of the stupefied look on the blond's face, and his horrified gasp. In fact, Cry didn't seem to be aware of anything but the zombies coming towards them, his grin getting bigger and bigger as he fondled a piece of putrid brain sticking to his palm. "Got any bullets left friend?"

"H-huh?"

Rocking back on his heels, the brunette laughed and rested his head on Felix's shoulder, His mask was still on, riddled with cracks and specks of blood, but he didn't need any x-ray glasses to see the look Cry was giving him. He could FEEL it. "How about we play a game? You like games…" Cry reached up and curled his fingers around the gun, thumbing it gently and glancing at the zombies. They were far enough away for the stench to be meager, but Pewds knew it wouldn't be long. They'd get closer.

"Bro, we don't have time for games! We've gotta go! The zambies!" Smacking one of the barrels, he gave it a dirty look. "These fahking traitors won't stay loyal forever!"

"Heeeh….don't worry about them. Don't you wanna play man? You'll like this game. It's fun!" Insanity leaked into the gamer's voice, making the naturally attractive tones disturbingly erotic. He forced the Swede to grasp the trigger with his forefinger, squeezing gently and leaning up to nuzzle his ear. "It's called….! Zombie roulette!" A shot roared through the air, raping a zombie's skull. It tripped up a few when it fell, but more kept on coming, groaning for brains and all things cliché. In all honesty, it was more terrifying than it sounded.

"BRO! Stop!" Felix screamed and wrapped an arm around Cry's waist, trying to tug him back behind the safety of the stupid barrels and sandbags, but he wormed free. He grabbed at him again. "There's no time for that shit! We have to go! Cry! What the fuck are you doing?!"

Giggling, the brunette bounded over the barrels with a lighthearted laugh. "It's a really fun game, I promise! The rules are easy too!" Cry cocked his hand like a gun and shot at him, retrieving his axe with the other and swinging it through the air choppily. "You just close your eyes aaaand-shoot! If you hear a scream," he lifted his mask, leaning over the blockade to give him a teasing, playful kiss on the tip of his nose. "Then….. your aim fucking SUCKS!"

That one glimpse told the Youtuber all he needed to know. As Cry roughly bit his lip and took off towards the horde, yelling and laughing like he never had before, Felix shouted his name, shooting desperately at the monsters lumbering towards them-HIM. "CRY!"

It was official. He'd gone fucking INSANE!

Oblivious by choice, Cry kept on running, slashing the air with his axe and cackling as his hoodie flapped around him, chocolate locks sticking to his cheeks. The zombies weren't paying any attention to the protected Swede now. Nohohono. Their eyes were ALL on Cry, rotten limbs reaching for him, brokenly grasping, their maws slick with pus and infected looking wounds. And he just kept on running, as if he were a dead man rushing to death's embrace. His laugh pierced the air, more of a screech than anything, filled to the brim with deception and madness and-and!

Oh fuck! OH FAHK! That was it, wasn't it?! Pewds took aim and fired, hollering his name. "Get your ass back here! Cry! You've gone fucking CRAZY!" Literally! He'd heard about this. The American had mentioned that he had occasional moments of irrationality, so to speak. He'd lose himself, get confused, peel away from the computer and ride it out until he got a lid back on his sanity. In other words, he'd always had control of it. "Fan-fanFanFAN!" Felix raked a hand through his hair, frantic, and then bounded after the masked man with every intention of dragging his ass back to camp and stuffing some sleeping pills down his throat. Maybe sleep would help? He didn't need a literal Mad Cry trying to get himself eaten by a bunch of zambies! "Fahk Cry!" Shooting one in the balls, he hurried faster and punched another right in the throat, preventing him from eating the gamer's face off. "You picked a BAD time to GO INSANE BRO!"

If Cry noticed the sudden protection, he didn't say anything. Well, not to him. He snickered and lolled his head about in a drunken way that made Pewds instantly think of the crooked man, burying his axe deep in the nearest za-zombie. Guts splattered everywhere, coating his jeans. They made a gooey mess under his feet too, and he slipped right on time to avoid a fist to the face as Pewds took out yet another undead that was reaching for them, groaning miserably when his head was nearly taken off. "Get up!" Hitting one zombie and shooting another, he shouted at the fallen gamer. "Cry! Get the hell up! We gotta go bro! Right fucking NOW! Comprendere?"

"Aww Pewds…." lying flat on his back, Cry grinned up at him, his smile so wide Felix could see it on the parts of his face the mask didn't cover. Fucking spooky. "You're spoiling all the fun! I don't wanna leave yet." He wriggled his shoulders and giggled at the squelching sound some random organs made, crushed to bits and leaking juices all down his back. Fan, the Swede just praaayed he didn't try to eat any of it.

"I don't CARE! Get your ass up!" He did his best to get the man up, but Cry was stubborn, making his body go limp after every tug and smiling away. Like they didn't have fucking ZOMBIES after them, ready to feast on their flesh! "BRO! UP!"

The cogwheels turned in that messed up head, and with Pewds next tug came a chuckling gamer who plastered himself against the Swede, arms looping around his neck and warm breath hot on the whorl of his ear. "Did you get tired of playing? You didn't even use all your ammo!" Plastering a wet palm on his stomach, Cry brushed it down and over the utility belt he wore, housing more weapons that his bros might be familiar with. "Hey. You still have this too.." a crowbar. Cry gripped it and pumped the cool metal. Felix was uncannily aware that it was the weapon not only known for bashing Cry's skull in countless times, but also the one closest to his groin. "Good times. Right, Pewds?" His thumb stroked the curved tip, rubbing over the claws as his muddled eyes flashed and glimmered dangerously. "Wanna use it on me again?"

What the FAHK was he supposed to say to that?! "…..bro. You be fucking craaaazy," Pewds gulped, randomly shooting a zombie over his shoulder and pulling at Cry's arm. "We have to GO. Ok? Zambies They're coming. We-"

Cry tilted his mask up again, and he was met with a gaze that was part navy, and part unholy red. Was that blood? He prayed it was blood. "Let them watch. I don't mind an audience," Cry crooned, bringing their mouths within centimeters of each other and growling seductively. Or it might've been seductive, if they weren't being approached by more and more blood thirsty, brain starved undead. "Felix….." those warm, firm lips came closer, stretching back into that grin as their owner fisted blood soaked, sandy locks and drew him down. "Don't worry about it bro. Kiss me."

Ok. It was really attractive, in a spooky sort of-FUCK. Not the time Pewds! Zombies! Lips! ZAMBIES! Cry's mouth! Gah! "Not now bro!" Javla fan! He flushed bright red, fighting to get free. FAHK. Stuffing his gun into the holster attached to his belt, Felix did the only thing he could think of. Knotting the gamer's hoodie in his hand and smashing their mouths together, he wrenched his crowbar free, gripping it tight in both hands and hitting it against Cry's head with a loud THUD.

The brunette groaned, surprised, his mask going askew and showing the stunned look in his eyes. "What the hell…?" Cry wavered, leaning on him a little. "You…..you bastard!" Blue faded fast to red, violence raw as open sores in the mismatched depths. Pewds flinched and ducked as hands wrestled for his throat, eager to tear him a new one, maybe throttle him senseless. "What the fuck did you do that FOR?!"

Mad Cry was becoming aaaangry Cry, and fast. That wasn't good. Hastening around him, Pewds swung the crowbar and cringed as it came in contact with the brunette's skull. With a THUMP and groan Cry stuttered, blinking furiously, then cupped the side of his head where there was a thin seam of blood and slumped to his knees. "You hit me," he murmured, viscous sanguine collecting on his fingers and trickling towards his wrist. "You…you hit me. ME. Heh. Eheheh. Hehehehehahah! Pewds! You fucking-FUCK!" Teeth gnashed, sharp as nails on an old torture device, and he leered up at the blond, resentment radiating from under his mask. "I'm gonna rip you to shreds. Fucking coward." A zombie scuffled close, and he grabbed it by the ankle, ripping his fingertips through the decayed flesh. "Pewds….."

He'd gone off the deep end. Long sleep? Screw that. What the American needed was a few good days in a COMA. Perhaps then he wouldn't look like a nutcase with homicidal tendencies. Hopefully. He prayed. Fahk. "I'm sorry Cry," Felix let the tool alone and just punched him, and the sound of his fist clunking against Cry's jaw made his skin crawl. He watched in unabashed horror as the man breathed a garbled sigh and collapsed, deliriously mumbling something as his eyes fluttered shut. "Ah man…"

There was blood on the crowbar, and his knuckles. He tried to ignore it, fixing the crowbar back on his belt and lifting the gamer into his arms. Dead weight; he was pretty heavy. Having undead plodding towards you down the road was a great adrenaline rush though!

Felix took off running, barely noticing Cry's mask go falling to the dirty street behind them and landing in a pile of zombie-stuff. Organs? Limbs? It was pulverized and disgusting. That's all he needed to know. For all he cared, they could have it. He'd already seen Cry's face, before this apocalypse bullshit got started. So long as he stayed unconscious while he was bonkers, Pewds didn't much care about seeing it coated in blood or other crap either. Speaking of, why HAD Cry gone insane anyway? Was it the thrill? The adrenaline? The blood? Would he do it again? Did he actually need to worry about it? What if it DID happen again? Could he trust the brunette not to charge in and do anything

"P…Pewds…"

He glanced down, a bit shocked to see Cry's bleary face staring at him. He was awake? Damn. And he didn't LOOK insane now, but the crimson was still blurring his sight, a veil of clotted red. "Don't worry about it Cry," he heaved, running towards the barrel-sandbag blockade and jumping over it. For once, the fahking barrels didn't trip him up. Maybe they weren't so bad….psh. Yeah right! Felix kicked one of them and laughed as it rolled towards the leftover zombies. The ones his bro hadn't decimated. Speaking of his bro, the gamer was digging his fingers through blond strands, head drooping backwards and bobbing with every flex of the muscles supporting him. He looked terrible. Pewds could clearly see the wounds where the crowbar had hit, and a nasty bruise was blooming like a masochistic rose on his cheek. "You need some beauty rest Cry! We'll be back to camp in no time, alright? You can sleep in my bed! It's comfy. I got a whole bunch of covers and-"

"Felix," a whine bubbled forth from chapped lips. "You….h-hit me dude. What the f-fuck did you do that for?" Cry fought to lift his head, see where they were going, but gave up pretty quickly, setting it instead in the crook of Pewds' arm and staving off the unconsciousness that loomed right around the corner. He wouldn't last long. The first whack with the crowbar hadn't been hard, but the second? Grimacing, the Swede cradled him a bit closer, bypassing a broken down car and a dead-well, DEAD dead zombie. That punch probably hadn't done Cry any favors. "Fucking bastard…"

"I know. You'll thank me later!" Smiling with fake enthusiasm, Felix gave his knee a little squeeze and kept on running. Sooner they got back, the better. "Now tell your mad self to stay the fuck away, alright? You nearly became a zombie buffet out there!" Cry didn't answer him. He was zoned out, though he was smirking, however faintly. He took it at face value, kissing him quickly on the brow and almost groaning in relief when the campsite started fazing out of the horizon. "Ha! Home sweet home! No more zombie hunts this week, ok Cry? We can do other stuff!" Like making sure his crazy alter ego didn't come back out. Shuddering, he tried his damndest to block out those terrifying orbs of ruby, hugging Cry tighter and resting his chin on top of splattered mocha locks. "It'll be ok man," he mumbled, hiding a sigh of relief. "Just don't….don't worry about it. We'll be ok! I'll protect you! And you've got my back!" Felix was mildly comforted by those thoughts, and he carried his unconscious bro over the threshold…er, camp threshold, offering his upper arm a soft clench as the barbed wire and steel door slammed shut behind them, welcoming smiles and cries from the other party members making him grin.

Right! They'd be FINE. He would always have Cry's back, and the gamer protected his ass no problem. They were thick as thieves, right as rain! Nothing could come between them! Not Youtube, the apocalypse, or a monstrous mass of flesh eating zombies. He wasn't worried about it. Nu-uuuuh. Just one thing.

The Swede shivered, peeking down at those closed eyes and now placid features.

They protected each other, sure. But who would protect THEM if Mad Cry came back?


End file.
